Harry Potter and the Bookwyrm
by Jelsemium
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and Harry has a small problem with a big Bookwyrm. On top of that, Sirius Black is lurking about. Now the EPILOGUE is UP! Merry Christmas!
1. Full of Beans

Harry Potter and the Bookwyrm

By Jill Weber AKA Jelsemium

Characters Owned by J.K. Rowling and used without permission or intent to make a profit.

Rating: PG for threat of violence.

Author's Notes: This story is more or less set during the Christmas break of the third book -- Prisoner of Azkaban. It contains no spoilers, though.

***

Gryffindor was ahead by three hundred and twenty points and the Golden Snitch was just ahead of him. In a few more seconds, Harry would have the game, and the Quidditch Cup, sewn up for Gryffindor. All he had to do was reach out and…

*SNAP!* a log cracked in the fireplace, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney, waking Harry up. 

He sighed without opening his eyes. The Quidditch match was just a dream. No wonder it had been going so well. Harry took a few moments before opening his eyes to orient himself. It was Christmas Eve, most of the students had gone home for the holidays. Hermione and Ron had stayed to keep him company. He could feel a heavy book in his lap and the heat of a nearby fire. He must have fallen asleep reading in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room.

"Say, that's given me an idea, why don't we play exploding snap?" That was one of the Weasley twins -- George. (It was easier to tell George from his twin Fred by voice than by sight, so Harry didn't bother opening his eyes.) 

"Will you hush? You'll wake him!" hissed a female voice. That was Hermione Granger, one of Harry's best friends.

"Well, I want to do something more fun than watch you brush your flea bitten cat!" George grumbled.

"Crookshanks does not have fleas!" snapped Hermione. 

"Whatever," grumped George.

"Why does he have to sleep here? He's got a perfectly good bed upstairs!" that was the other twin, Fred. 

"He didn't plan to take a nap here, I'm sure," Hermione said reasonably. 

"Besides, a game of exploding snap would wake him up even if he were upstairs." This last was from Harry's other best friend Ron Weasley, the younger brother of the twins.

"Well, maybe we could do something to make sure our game doesn't wake him?" said Fred. Harry didn't like the sound of that. The Weasley twins were notorious practical jokers, there was no telling what Fred would do to insure that Harry wasn't awakened by the noisy game. Apparently, Hermione and Ron came to the same conclusion.

"Oh, no you don't!" snarled Ron. There was a faint scuffling noise, then a laugh from one of the twins. (It wasn't as easy to tell their laughs apart.)

Harry opened his eyes. The room was blurred, but he could make out the general picture. Ron and Hermione had squared off against the twins like a pair of wild west gunslingers. Their wands were out and ready. To the uninitiated, it would have looked like overkill, as the older boys only held cardboard boxes. However, considering the twin's reputations, Harry didn't blame his friends for arming themselves.

One of the twins met Harry's eyes and grinned. "Oh, did these two (he pointed at Ron and Hermione) little noise makers wake you up? So sorry, Harry!" George said mischievously.

"Yeah, I bet you are," Harry muttered. He sat up straight, set his book down on the table next to a bowl of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor beans and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to get rid of the blurriness. Then he woke up the rest of the way and realized that his glasses had been removed.

Ron and Hermione turned around. "Sorry, Harry," Hermione said with much more sincerity than George had mustered. She pushed back at her bushy brown hair and frowned. "Where are your glasses?" she asked. She tapped her wand against her hand and studied the twins as if deciding which hex to throw.

"I was wondering the same thing," Harry said, feeling the top of the table next to his chair in case they were blending into the woodwork… or had been made invisible.

"Oh, we took your glasses off so they wouldn't fall off your nose and get smashed," Fred said, trying to suppress a smirk.

"Oh, great, what did you do to them?" muttered Ron. "Mom'll kill you if…"

"Oh, keep your hair on!" George said, with a huge attempt at innocence. "They're right here!" He opened his cardboard box and held it out to Harry. Nestled in a wad of green and red tissue paper were Harry's glasses.

At least, they looked like Harry's glasses. Harry let out a faint sigh at the irony that, without his glasses, he couldn't tell if these were his glasses. He gave the twins a suspicious look. "So, what happens when I put them on?" he asked. "I get huge black rings around my eyes?" He lifted the glasses from the box and eyed them warily. He held them in front of his face and looked through the lens. The glasses, and the view through the glasses, looked normal at this distance.

The twins put their hands over their hearts and adopted what Harry suspected were supposed to be horrified expressions.

"Harry!" George said huffily. "We're hurt!"

"Wounded to the core," Fred added and he put the back of his free hand to his forehead.

"Cut to the quick that you would think…" George put in, duplicating Fred's move.

"…That we can't come up with something more original that that old dodge!" Fred finished.

The twins exchanged looks and nods.

This was not reassuring and Harry said so.

The twins laughed. "It's not supposed to be reassuring!" hooted Fred. "But, hey, you're the great Harry Potter! The boy that sent You-Know-Who packing! Surely the Great and Powerful Harry Potter isn't afraid of his own glasses!"

Harry's face went as red as the Weasleys' hair. "Right now you're a bigger threat to me than Voldemort is," he muttered.

All three of the Weasley's gasped in unfeigned apprehension.

"Don't say that!" Ron complained. 

"You'll get lumps of coals in your stocking if you keep saying that name!" Fred warned.

"Don't be silly, it's just a name," Hermione chided. She brushed her bushy brown hair out of her eyes. "No harm ever came from saying somebody's name!"

Ron shook his head. "You muggle raised just don't understand the power of names," he said. "So humor us, okay?"

"Of course," Harry squinted at his glasses again. There was no alternative that he could see.

Hermione looked worriedly at Harry, obviously more concerned about him trying on his glasses than his saying that name.

Harry gave her a lopsided smile. "Be ready for anything," he said. "And I hope you know the remedy for whatever it is they're planning." Then he put his glasses on.

Harry took a deep breath as the world came back into focus and waited for the payoff. He took another breath, still waiting. Cautiously, he moved his head to scan the room, still waiting. 

Ron and Hermione were holding their breaths.

Harry shook his head, blinked and waved a hand in front of his face, still waiting. "Well, whatever's supposed to happen, didn't." he informed the twins.

George and Fred fell into overstuffed chairs and laughed.

Alarmed, Harry yanked off his glasses and looked at them. "What?" he demanded. He looked at Ron and Hermione. "What's happening?"

Hermione shook their head. "Nothing," she reported. "There are no circles around your eyes. Nothing's changing color. Nothing's sprouting. Nothing's growing, shrinking or changing shape…" She scowled at the twins who just laughed harder.

Harry let out a snort and relaxed. "So, that's the trick?" he asked. "That I'll think there's a trick when there isn't one?" He brushed a wisp of his unruly black hair out of his face. The gesture exposed his lightning shaped scar and the firelight made it stand out even more than usual.

"Maybe," George said. 

Harry took a deep breath. "Vol…"

"Yes! Yes!" Fred put up his hands in a token of surrender. "We just wanted to see how long it would take you to get the nerve to put them on."

George grinned and shrugged. "Would've been funnier if you'd held off putting them on longer, but one can't have everything."

Fred nodded and pushed the bowl of Bernie's Every Flavor Beans towards Harry. "Here, have a bean. If you're lucky, it'll be cherry and mint." 

In honor of Christmas, the bowl was filled with various shades of green and red beans. 

There was really no telling what the flavor any given bean was, not even by the color. Red and green beans could be anything from cherry and mint to roast beef and brussel sprouts. Even strange flavors like dragon scales and belly button lint had been known to turn up.

Harry polished his glasses on his handkerchief, then put them back on and looked around warily. When nothing continued to not happen, he relaxed a bit, accepted a red bean from Fred and bit into it.

"Whoa, what'd you get?" George demanded eagerly.

Harry's expression had obviously given away the fact that the flavor was NOT cherry.

He spat the bean into his handkerchief. "Blood," he said.

"Ewww…" Hermione and Ron chorused.

"Cool!" the twins said. They dove into the bowl trying to find another. They exclaimed in disgust as they found, one after the other: radish, rhubarb, rubber and cedar.

"You try," George urged Hermione.

Tentatively, Hermione picked a bean that was the same color as the Weasleys' hair. "Cinnamon," she said with a woof of air that seemed to indicate that she'd been holding her breath.

"Now you," Fred urged his youngest brother.

Ron reached for a green bean, only to get hooted at. Sighing, he picked up a bean. "Smoked salmon," he said, rolling it around on his tongue. "Very nice."

George tried another and made a face. "Paprika," he complained.

Fred tried one. "Wow! Cayenne!" and he ran to wash his mouth out. When he got back, he found George urging another set of red beans on the three younger students.

Ron, Hermione and Harry exchanged resigned look and each took a bean with all the enthusiasm they'd have been shown to taking castor oil. This time, Ron got Apple and Hermione got rose petals. "Too bad I can't be sure of those every time," she said. "These are nice."

"Harry?" George prodded.

Harry picked a bean that he thought was a brighter shade of red than the last one, took a bite, then spat into his handkerchief again. 

"Blood, again?" George said.

Harry nodded.

"No fair!" Fred complained. 

They examined the color of the beans in Harry's napkin and tried to match the color. 

"Care for a chocolate frog?" Harry asked. He fetched some boxes and held them out to his friends. The twins shook their heads, determined to find a blood flavored bean.

"Thank you," Hermione said, accepting a frog. "The way things are going, I wouldn't be surprised if some of those green beans tasted like real frogs."

Hermione winced as the bean flavors went from poinsettias to bricks to rouge to even more disgusting things. She looked at the collector's card that came with the Chocolate Frog. "Anybody want the Sphinx?" she asked.

"WOW! Jalapeno pepper!" George's yelp was somewhat muffled and he bumped into Harry as he dashed for the bathroom. He came back in a few minutes land picked another bean. "I will not be stopped by a little spice!" he declared.

Ron shook his head, continuing the conversation about the Sphinx. "I've already got a dozen of her."

"I have one, too," Harry said, but he accepted the card anyway.

"Maybe we should head over to the library," Hermione said after she finished her chocolate frog. 

"Why the library?" Ron asked. "That's so…"

"Euk! Iodine!" Fred exclaimed.

"Raspberry!" George said as disgusted as if it had been iodine.

"You want another bean?" Hermione asked.

Ron took another look at his brothers and shook his head.

"You know, I should return my book," Harry said suddenly. "It really wasn't very interesting. How anybody could make Quidditch into a dull read is beyond me, though." He picked up the book from the table and absentmindedly stuffed his handkerchief into his pocket. 

The three slipped out of the Gryffindor tower before the twins could force another round of beans on them. They didn't even stop long enough to pick up their wands. An oversight they would soon regret.

"Why so many disgusting flavors in one batch?" Harry asked.

"I think they don't like being color coordinated," Ron said wisely. "They want variety." He had to love the way his muggle raised friends accepted his superior knowledge of the wizarding world. Hermione, whose parents were completely non-magical dentists, was big on book learning, but magic candy was something she hadn't read up on… yet. Harry's parents had been famous wizards. However, they had been killed when Harry was only one and so Harry had been raised by his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, who weren't just non-magical, they were fanatically anti-magical.

It made a nice change for Ron to be the center of attention for a change. As the youngest of six boys, he'd always been over shadowed by his brothers. And, in some ways, being Harry Potter's best friend was even worse. Not that Harry tried to hog the spotlight. It's just that circumstances always seemed to shove the dark haired boy into the limelight. 

Sometimes Ron wished that he were the one in the limelight. Then something would happen, like an insane murderer escaping from prison to come looking for Harry, and Ron would decide there are advantages to being the sidekick. Sidekicks don't get blood sucking monsters coming after them. Heck, sidekicks don't even get blood flavored beans!

They walked into the library and looked around. Something flashed in Harry's eyes and he turned his head away from the window. Then he frowned. The flash of light couldn't have come from the window, there was no sunlight today. He walked over to the desk and handed his book back to the librarian, Madam Pince.

Ron sighed. "Spending the day in the library isn't my idea of fun." He looked around gloomily.

Hermione snorted. "It would do you some good to spend more time reading and less time getting into trouble."

"You sound like Percy," Ron complained.

"So, then, what do you want to do?" Hermione asked. "Go back to the common room and play guinea pig for your brothers' latest round of practical jokes?"

Ron sighed and shook his head. Then he looked out the window at the gloomy weather outside. "I'd rather go outside and freeze. At least I know what to expect from sleet. Harry? Any ideas?"

"We could go see Hagrid," Harry said. 

Hermione sighed, then decided that visiting Hagrid was actually a pretty good idea. She liked Hogwarts' giant sized gamekeeper. "Very well, then, let's pick out something interesting to read, then go down to visit Hagrid."

"Sounds good to me," said Ron.

Harry moved towards the shelves that had Quidditch books. The new book that he wanted to read, Hogwarts' Twenty Best Seekers, had been checked out since September and he wanted to see if it was back in yet. He played Seeker for his house team and he wanted to know about others who had played that position. He was especially eager to know if his father was mentioned. He'd seen the trophy that James Potter had helped win for his house, so Harry knew his father had been good. Question was, had he been good enough to get into this book?

There was a nasty flash of light in his eyes again. "Ow." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Hermione asked worried.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I think so."

Hermione eyed him unconvinced. "You think so? If you don't know so, maybe you'd better go see Madam Pomfrey."

"It's nothing," he said. "Just some light reflecting in my eyes."

"From where?" Ron wondered.

Harry put his glasses back on. "From that door," he said, gesturing.

Hermione and Ron looked in the indicated direction. Then they exchanged puzzled looks.

"What?" Harry demanded.

"There's no door there," Hermione explained. "There's nothing there but bookshelves."

"What?" Harry said. "But…" he squinted. "It's right…" he took his glasses off. There was nothing there but bookshelves. "I don't get it," he muttered, putting his glasses back on. "But I can see a door," he complained. He started toward the door, wondering if he was seeing something magical or if he was just going crackers. Of course, neither option ruled out the other, he mused to himself.

Hermione looked worriedly at Ron. Strange things happened around Harry Potter, even by wizarding standards.

Ron suddenly slapped his forehead and made a disgusted sound. "George and Fred," he snarled in disgust. "They did mess with your glasses."

Harry stopped and sighed. "That would make sense," he said. "I wonder why I'm seeing a door, though?" He reached out to where the door handle should have been… and fell through the bookcase.

Harry Potter and the Bookwyrm: Page 


	2. The BookWyrm

Harry Potter and the Bookwyrm

Author: Jill D. Weber AKA Jelsemium

Characters Owned by J.K. Rowling and used without permission or intent to make a profit.

Rating: PG for threat of violence.

Author's Notes: This story is more or less set during the Christmas break of the third book -- Prisoner of Azkaban. It contains no spoilers, though.

***

"Harry!" Ron and Hermione cried. 

They rushed over to the bookcase, but nothing they tried opened it up again.

"Shhhhh!" hissed Madam Pince. "What's all this noise about?"

"Harry fell through the bookcase," Hermione replied.

The librarian scowled. "Figures the Potter boy would be making trouble," she huffed. She poked at the bookcase a few times, pulled at a few books, then frowned. "I've never known this case to do anything. I'd better get Filch to look into opening it again." She stomped off. "You two had better not try anything!"

"Wonderful," Ron sighed. "He'll probably give Harry detention, just out of spite." The students at Hogwarts dislike of Caretaker Argus Filch was only outdone by Filch's dislike of the students. He gave the students detention at every opportunity that presented itself. His main sorrow in life was that Headmaster Dumbledore didn't allow him to hang the students by their thumbs anymore.

"We'd better get him out of there ourselves," Hermione said.

"How?" Ron wanted to know.

"Figure out how he fell in, of course!" Hermione said impatiently. She reached for her wand and made a sound of disgust when she realized that she no longer had it on her.

"I'll see if I can find out what Fred and George did to his glasses," Ron said. He sprinted out of the library before Hermione could ask him to fetch her wand for her.

Hermione scowled at the bookcase in front of her. It looked so perfectly normal that she was surprised she hadn't suspected it of something before. Nothing at Hogwarts was 'perfectly normal' by muggle standards.

***

Harry managed to get his arms up and prevented himself from smashing face first into the floor. However, his glasses bounced off his nose and went clattering away. He sat up and shielded his eyes with one hand from the sudden brightness. With his other hand, he felt around for his escaped glasses.

"Allow me," a low sibilant voice spoke.

The next thing Harry knew, the glasses were placed in his outstretched hand.

"Thank you," he said. He lowered his other hand and blinked as his eyes adjusted.

"You're welcome," hissed the serpent he found facing him. "You've come just in time for dinner." The serpent smiled as best it could. "MY dinner."

***

Ron burst into the Gryffindor common room. "George, Fred, WHAT DID YOU DO TO HARRY'S GLASSES!" Ron bellowed. "Fix it before I tell Mom!"

Fred almost gagged on his rust flavored bean. 

"Huh? What are you talking about?" George demanded as he slapped Fred on the back.

"Harry saw something strange in one of the bookcases and then he fell through and we can't get it open and Pince went to get Filch and if we don't get Harry out of there before Filch arrives he'll get detention and that's a shoddy thing to do to a friend on Christmas Eve!"

"I'm telling you, Ron, we didn't DO anything to those glasses!" gasped Fred. "I don't even know any tricks that would make somebody fall through a bookcase!"

"But if Harry's in trouble…" George said, bolting through the exit.

"And has found a new secret passage…" Fred added following his twin, still carrying his cardboard box.

"Oh, help," Ron said. He started to follow the twins, then whirled around and dashed up the stairs to fetch Harry and the twins' wands from the boys' dormitory. He wasted a few minutes looking for his own wand, then remembered that he'd had it downstairs in the common room. Then he bolted down the stairs from the boys' dormitory and up the stairs into the girls' dormitory to get Hermione's wand before he remembered that she'd had it in the common room, also. Maybe she still had it on her. He dashed downstairs and found Hermione's wand lying next to his own right next to the bowl of Every Flavor beans. He took a moment to catch his breath and count wands. THEN he made a mad dash for the library.

***

Harry swallowed. "Hello," he said.

The serpent's head raised and it's neck swelled, like a cobra's. "You speak Parseltongue!" it hissed in delight. "I've never eaten a human Parselmouth before!"

"Wh… why would you want to eat me?" Harry asked. "Wouldn't that be like, well, cannibalism?" 

The serpent's tongue flickered at him. "And your point?"

Harry sighed. "Never mind," he said, wishing he'd brought his wand with him. He should have known better than to leave it behind.

"Ah, I thought perhaps you were challenging me to a riddle contest," sighed the serpent. "Glad you decided to just give up and go down quietly."

"Riddle contest?" Harry asked.

The serpent actually winced. "Did I say that out loud?" it asked in dismay.

"If I challenge you to a riddle contest, does that mean you're not allowed to eat me?"

The serpent sighed like a hissing tea kettle. "Oh, great, I finally meet a meal who doesn't know the rules, and I…"

"Spill the beans?" Harry asked.

"Don't be smart mouthed," the serpent said. "You're making me hungry."

"Oh, sorry," Harry said automatically before he realized that he was apologizing to the creature who was planning to eat him. "So, what are the rules of this contest?"

The serpent sighed. "Easy, you ask me a question, I ask you a question. The first one who fails to answer must forfeit… well, whatever it is that the winner wants." It grinned. "So, what is it that you want, Parselmouth?"

"Umm… surviving this encounter would be lovely," Harry managed. "What are you, anyway?"

The serpent chortled. "I am a bookwyrm," it hissed. "What other dragon relative would lurk in the bookcases of a library?" It slithered closer. "My turn."

Harry swallowed when he realized he'd asked his first riddle. He should have asked something harder. On the other hand, he couldn't think of any riddles, so maybe his best bet was to stall for time. Ron and Hermione must have gone for help by now.

"Sooo, my little Parselmouth, who are you?"

"Harry Potter," Harry said.

The reptilian head drew back a little, as if in alarm. Maybe he'd heard of Harry's encounter with Voldemort. That made Harry feel a little better, but not much.

"You're…" the Bookwyrm stopped itself.

Harry eyed it narrowly. "What happens if one of the contestants asks two questions in a row?" he prodded.

The Bookwyrm made a face. "Then that contestant loses," it hissed. "My turn. You're not serious about being Harry Potter… about being THE Harry Potter that defeated the Dark Lord?"

"Yes, I am" Harry replied. He pushed his bangs aside to show the distinctive lightning bolt shaped scar that was the souvenir of Voldemort's first attempt to kill him.

The Bookwyrm sounded like the Hogwarts' Express now. Harry wondered if anybody outside the bookcase could hear it.

***

Hermione was almost beside herself with worry when Madam Pince returned with Filch.

"What have you been up to, eh?" Filch growled at her.

"Harry fell through the bookcase," she said, pointing to the offending piece of furniture. And there's something inside there with him!" Hermione cried. "I can hear it hissing!"

"Hissing?" snapped the librarian. "Nonsense, there is nothing in this library…"

"D'yeh supposed that this is Bookwyrm's case?" Filch asked suddenly, suddenly sounding alarmed. "Maybe it's come back?"

"Oh! I thought that was just a myth," Madam Pince said. Then she fainted.

"Stupid git," growled Filch. He glared at Hermione. "I'll get the headmaster. He's the best one to deal with that thing. You wait here and see what you can do for her!"

It took Hermione several minutes to bring the librarian around. "Water," she gasped. "There's a glass on my desk."

Hermione hurried over and fetched the glass, which the librarian finished off in one gulp.

"There must be some information on opening this bookcase somewhere!" said Hermione. She was a firm believer in the power of books. They'd always been her best friend. 

The librarian looked at her angrily. "Do you really want to open that door and face that…" she gestured as another furious hiss emerged from behind the bookcase.

Hermione looked at her frostily. "Do you really want the Headmaster to arrive and find you've done nothing to help one of his students?"

The librarian's eyes went wide. "Ah, perhaps I saw something in the restricted section once…" she murmured, getting to her feet. "You wait here."

***

"Your turn," prompted the Bookwyrm. 

Harry hunted in his mind for a riddle and came up blank. "Um, why do you hang about libraries looking for meals?" he asked.

"Because I love to read, and I love intelligent dinners," the Bookwyrm replied. "You are what you eat, you know." It thought for a few minutes, then continued. "Besides, most regular library patrons are exactly, y'know, paragons of ferocity." It looked Harry up and down. "Even you don't look that… dangerous."

Harry frowned.

"No offense intended," the Bookwyrm added hurriedly. Now it's my turn. Let's get down to cases, shall we?"

"If you insist," Harry said, wondering about the Bookwyrm's reaction. For a second there, it had almost seemed scared of him. Maybe that would help him somehow. "And now it's my turn."

The Bookwyrm winced as it realized he'd asked a question. "Go on, then," it hissed. 

"You're in luck, I seem to be a wee bit out of practice. It's not everyday I get to eat a celebrity."

"You haven't won the right to eat me yet," Harry warned as he tried to think of a stumper.

"You realize that not asking a riddle is the same as forfeiting," said the Bookwyrm as Harry's silence lengthened.

Harry sighed. "Okay, so why hang out at Hogwarts? Don't…" he stopped himself before he asked if the Bookwyrm knew that the place was filled with witches and wizards. "I'd think it would be too dangerous here," he finished.

The Bookwyrm laughed. "Oh, yes, I know, but I'm dangerous, too." It showed its fangs. "My turn." Its head bobbed back and forth a few minutes, then it said: "I can sizzle like bacon. I am made with an egg. I have plenty of backbone, but lack a good leg. I peel layers like onions, but still remain whole. I can be long, like a flagpole, yet fit in a hole, What am I?"

***

When Ron reached the library, Hermione was all but in tears. "Why didn't you idiots bring your wands!" she hissed at the twins. "Harry's in danger!"

"How were we supposed to know that?" Fred asked, aggrieved.

George shot him an ironic look. "This is Harry Potter we're talking about, remember?"

"Oh, my mistake," Fred said. The cardboard box that he'd been carrying around was on the floor next to him. The twins were pulling books from the case and piling them up neatly on the floor as they tested for hidden panels.

"You idiots!" Ron said. "What if the spell that opens the bookcase needs to have the books arranged a certain way!"

"That's twice today we've been called idiots, George," Fred said. "You think there's something to it?"

"Nah," George said. "Ickle Ronniekins just doesn't realize that we have the books arranged to we can put them back exactly the way they were."

Ron snorted as he handed Hermione her wand. "Finally, a Weasley with some sense!" Hermione said.

"What? Is Mom here?" Fred asked, looking over his shoulder.

Ron kicked him, then handed him his wand. "Maybe we should just blast the bookcase," he said grimly.

"You're more likely to hurt Harry than whatever is in there with him," snapped Hermione.

"So much for Ron being a Weasley with sense," muttered George.

***

As all that was happening, Harry was staring at the Bookwyrm as he wracked his brain for an answer. The serpent stuck its tongue out at him and suddenly Harry's brain kicked back into gear. "You're a snake," he said. "Snakes are hatched, like birds and they shed their skins, like onions." He took his first good look at the Bookwyrm's body and saw that it, indeed, had no legs.

The Bookwyrm chuckled. "Pity, for a minute there, I thought I had you on a very basic riddle. Your turn." It folded itself back on its coils, like it was reclining in an easy chair.

Harry felt a little queasy and he wished Hermione was there. His bookish friend probably knew scads of riddles. All he could think of, however, was: "Um, how do you get in here?"

The Bookwyrm sighed and rolled its eyes. "There's a secret passage from the catacombs through the pipes. The outside opening is near the statue of Godric Gryffindor, the inside opening is right in this bookcase. These aren't proper riddles, I'm on the verge of disqualifying you."

Harry swallowed.

The Bookwyrm rolled its eyes as it thought. "What has roots as nobody sees. Is taller than trees. Up, up it goes. And yet never grows?"

Harry swallowed again. 'Taller than trees?' He thought. What is taller than trees? "Um, a mountain?" 

The Bookwyrm let out a hissing sigh. "Correct. Your turn." It paused, then added. "And it had better be a proper riddle!"

Harry let out a small 'eep.' "Why is a math book sad?" he asked, remembering a riddle that he'd heard in his muggle school, eons ago.

The Bookwyrm sighed and made of show of rolling its eyes. "Because it has so many problems!" he growled. "You aren't very good at this, are you?" he asked.

"Haven't been eaten yet," Harry pointed out. "My turn, by the way."

"GAH!" said the Bookwyrm, smacking itself on the forehead with its tail.

Harry could have smacked his own forehead. If he hadn't said anything, the Bookwyrm might have asked two questions in a row and automatically lost. "Um," he said. "Thirty white horses on a red hill. First they champ. Then they stamp. Then they stand still."

The Bookwyrm snorted. "Human teeth," it replied snootily. It thought for a moment. "What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?"

Harry blinked. 'What runs and has a mouth and a bed…?' "A river," he replied after a few minutes.

"Fangs, I'm losing my touch," the Bookwyrm muttered. "Okay, go."

Harry put his hands in his pocket, looking for inspiration.

"And if you ask me what's in your pocket, I'll just eat you," the Bookwyrm said.

"Oh, right," Harry sighed. He felt the card from the Chocolate frog and said: "What walks on four legs at dawn, two legs at noon and three legs at dusk?"

The Bookwyrm laughed. "Oh, that one's as old as the Sphinx! Man, of course! He crawls when he's a baby, walks on two legs in his prime and uses a cane in his old age." The serpent eyed Harry hungrily. "Here's another famous riddle. It was put to Homer by some fishermen of Ios, and is said to have caused his death from frustration when he couldn't answer it."

'Lovely,' Harry thought. 'I'm supposed to solve a riddle Homer couldn't.' "Well, go on," he said.

"Those we caught we threw away, those we could not catch we kept."

Harry looked at the Bookwyrm blankly. The Bookwyrm licked its chops. Harry sighed, less than half an hour ago, he'd been safe in Gryffindor Tower, reading his book, watching Hermione brush her cat, listening to George complain about watching Hermione brushing her cat… 

Wait a minute. What if the reason you kept something you couldn't catch is because it was something that you already had? Something like… "Fleas," he said aloud.

"Pssst… ," the Bookwyrm said. "Your turn."

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek. The comment about asking what was in his pocket made him think of the riddle contest in The Hobbit. Which gave him another riddle. "A box without hinges, key, or lid. Yet golden treasure inside is hid."

The Bookwyrm nodded approvingly. "Better. I think you're getting the hang of this. The answer is an egg, of course."

Harry sighed. He wasn't likely to know any riddles that the bookworm didn't know, and he wasn't very good at making them up.

The Bookwyrm chuckled. "Walk on the living, they don't even mumble. Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble. What are they?"

Harry had heard something like this before, he was sure. "Grass!"

The Bookwyrm chortled. "No, leaves." It started towards Harry.

"Same thing!" Harry complained, backing up until he ran out of space. "Blades of grass are leaves, too!"

The Bookwyrm considered this. "Very well, your turn," it grumbled.

"Um," Harry said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

The Bookwyrm licked its chops as Harry's silence lengthened.

***

"This is not good," Ron muttered as the twins continued to investigate the bookcase. "Are you sure you can put things back exactly the way they were?"

"As long as you don't move anything," grunted George.

Hermione moved away so she wouldn't accidentally displace anything. "It has to be a simple answer. Why did Harry fall through the bookcase?" Hermione muttered to herself.

Ron frowned as he paced. "Question is, why didn't anybody else fall through? I mean, what's different about Harry than you and me? I mean, besides the whole business with You-Know-Who and the scar and the madman who's out to kill him and being such a good Seeker at Quidditch and all. I mean, really, aside from all that, he's just a shrimp in glasses!" 

His eyes went wide. "Glasses! That must be it. He couldn't see the door when he took his glasses off, that's why we suspected Fred and George!"

Hermione dashed over to Pince's desk. "Good thinking!" she said. She snatched up Pince's drinking glass and hurried back to the bookcase. She held the glass up and she and Ron could see the doorway that Harry had mentioned.

Ron had to bend a little to bring his eyes on the same level as Hermione's. He touched the glass so he could scan the bookcase better. "Oh, there's the handle!" Ron said, pointing.

"Whatever you do, don't…" Fred started.

"Do that," George finished as Ron and Hermione disappeared.

They both sighed heavily. "Find some glass," said George.

***

"Go on," the Bookwyrm hissed.

'Wonderful,' thought Harry. 'This will make a great epitaph, or t-shirt: "I survived the Dark Lord only to get swallowed by an overgrown snake." ' Then the answer hit him. 

Shortly after that, Ron and Hermione hit him as they fell through the bookcase. It took a few minutes to sort out whose limb belonged to whom. Then the three of them scrambled to their feet.

"No fair calling in reinforcements!" the Bookwyrm complained.

"Something hissed!" Ron said, looking around for the source.

When he spotted the Bookwyrm, his eyes went wide and he shoved Harry's wand into his hand.

"Thanks," Harry said. He gestured with his wand. "This is the Bookwyrm. He likes to read and eat people." Harry said in English. He gestured with his hand to Ron and Hermione. "These are my two best friends," he hissed in Parseltongue.

"Don't tell it our names!" Ron said in scandalized tones.

"I didn't!" Harry snapped indignantly.

The Bookwyrm inclined his head. "But I already know your names, Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Hermione Granger," it said in cultured tones. "I like to read, and Mr. Potter here is rather famous, you know. And you two aren't unknowns anymore."

"You speak English!" Hermione said, almost accusingly. She gripped her wand until her knuckles turned white and glared at the Bookwyrm.

"Of course, I speak many tongues," the Bookwyrm said smugly. "As I said, I am well read." It smiled. "And shortly, I shall be well fed." It looked at Harry and licked its lips.

"I don't think so," Ron said, scowling. "In case you aren't as good at arithmetic as you are at literature, I should like to point out that there are three of us and only one of you." He swished his wand meaningfully and hoped he looked threatening.

"No, you cannot interfere," the Bookwyrm complained. "It's against the rules, it is. I've played by the rules, so I get my shot at dinner!"

"What rules?" Hermione demanded, trying to look fiercer than she felt.

"Riddle game rules," the Bookwyrm said.

Ron swallowed. "We can't interfere, Hermione," he hissed. "Riddle contests are serious."

"However, you are now in the game," the Bookwyrm said. "She asked a question during his turn. I answered it. So now it's my turn to ask a question."

"But…" Hermione started.

Harry silenced her by holding up his hand. "You can't ask two riddles in one turn or you lose."

"Losing to me means you forfeit your life," the Bookwyrm warned.

"If they can't interfere, then you can't eat them," Harry said fiercely.

"I changed my mind," the Bookwyrm said silkily. "They are now part of the game, and they face the same fate, should you all fail to answer."

Harry looked at the other two in dismay.

"Well, we didn't come barging in here just to brush dust off your robes," Ron said, almost huffily. "We rather figured we'd be facing mortal peril."

"This is you we're talking about," Hermione added.

Harry blushed, but before he could decide whether to be touched, indignant, embarrassed or some combination of the three, the Bookwyrm spoke up.

"So, are…" The Bookwyrm stopped itself before it asked if they were ready to continue. "Enough chit-chat, my little _tapas_, it's my turn." Before the three could respond, the Bookwyrm continued. "Here's the next riddle. Where may you find roads without carts, forests without trees, and cities without houses?"

Harry and Ron exchanged anxious looks, but Hermione only snorted. "That's easy, you find them all on a map."

The Bookwyrm snorted. "Little Miss Know-it-all," it said, unknowingly echoing the complaint of many of Hermione's classmates.

Harry actually grinned. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Our turn," he said. He took a deep breath. "Say it aloud, and he'll know who you are. So name me the wizard that gave me this scar." And he pointed to his forehead.

The Bookwyrm froze in horror. "You… that's cheating! Besides, you guessed wrong my other question. I'm not letting you…"

Ron, Harry and Hermione raised their wands threateningly. 

"You'd better count to ten before you lose your temper," Harry said.

The Bookwyrm hesitated.

"Or at least count to three," Ron added darkly.

"Gah," it said. "All right, I concede the contest. But I'm not giving you a forfeit, you cheated. Besides, it's annoying to have to leave without so much as a taste of blood."

"Well, if all you want is a taste," Harry said. He pulled out his handkerchief and displayed the beans. "Bernie Botts' Every Flavor Beans has blood flavor, too." He tossed them up to the Bookwyrm, who swallowed them down with a sour hiss.

"Well, it's better than nothing," Ron said. "After all, it's not every monster that can claim it's tasted Harry Potter's blood."

"Yeah, yeah," the Bookwyrm said.

"Dumbledore will be here any minute," Hermione warned.

The Bookwyrm decided to take the hint. It slithered off with a hiss that really didn't need translating.

***

The three adventurers sighed with relief.

"You should have insisted on your forfeit," Ron said jokingly, giving Harry a friendly punch in the shoulder. "It's in the rules, you know."

Harry gave him a disgusted look and slapped his hand away. "All I wanted was to get out of that encounter alive," he said. "It forfeiting its dinner is enough for me."

"Are you hurt?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. "No, just…" He stopped. They all knew he'd been scared silly, so why dwell on it? "Thanks for coming to my rescue," he said sincerely.

"Yeah, sure," Ron said diffidently, suddenly uncomfortable at the possibility of mushy stuff. 

"Well, we had to do something," Hermione said, blushing.

Harry grinned and changed the subject. "How did you find me?" he asked.

Relieved at getting past the potentially embarrassing gratitude part, Hermione picked up the water glass and explained their deductions.

"Good thinking," Harry said looking around. "Any idea how to get out of here?"

Hermione looked around, too. "No," she sighed. She looked through the water glass before it dawned on her that if looking through glass would show the solution, Harry would have already seen it. She blushed again, but the boys were too busy poking around the backside of the bookcase to notice her slip.

"Dunno if you could say we actually rescued you, though," Ron said. "You were doing fine."

"The Bookwyrm wouldn't have given up that easily if you two hadn't been here," Harry said. Then he sighed. "I just wish I could riddle a way out of here before Filch shows up."

"Dumbledore will know how to open the case," Ron said reassuringly. 

"How will Prof. Dumbledore know…" Hermione started, then she interrupted herself. "Oh, of course, he wears glasses, too. He'll spot the door right away."

"He probably already knows about it," Ron said.

Just then, George and Fred came through the bookcase, wands at the ready.

"Is everybody all right, then?" Fred asked, relaxing a trifle. He tucked the magnifying glass he'd swiped from the librarian's desk into his pocket.

"No, we all got eaten," Ron replied. "Can't you see the bloody bones lying about?"

"Pity," Fred said. "I was hoping for a quick game of Exploding Snap." He opened up the box he'd been carrying around. "Anybody interested?"


	3. The Wyrm Turns

Harry Potter and the Bookwyrm

Author: Jill D. Weber 

AKA Jelsemium

Characters Owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

They are used without permission or intent to make a profit.

Rating: PG for threat of violence.

Author's Notes: This story is more or less set during the Christmas break of the third book -- Prisoner of Azkaban. 

Now contains spoilers!

Chapt. 3 -- The Wyrm Turns

**** Bookcase ****

Fifty-two cards did not divide into five evenly. So it was just as well that Hermione chose to pace rather than to play Snap. George dealt out four hands of thirteen cards each. "Sure you don't want to play, Hermione?" he asked.

"How can you sit around and play cards?" Hermione asked in exasperation. "We've been stuck in here for hours! I have homework to do!"

Ron, who was picking up the first card in his hand sputtered and squeezed it too hard, causing the first explosion of the game. "WHAT? Hermione! It's CHRISTMAS EVE! You can't be doing homework on CHRISTMAS EVE! That's…" He blew up two more cards before he thought to set them down. "It's got to be sacrilegious or something!"

"I have a _lot _of homework," Hermione huffed.

"Well, drop a few classes!" Ron snorted. "Even _you _can't learn everything in one year!"

"I'm not trying to learn everything!" Hermione said in exasperation. "I'm just trying to catch up to the people who've lived in the Wizarding world all their lives." She frowned at the boys sitting on the floor. "Why don't you make some cushions? That looks uncomfortable."

"Good idea," Fred said. "I'll transfigure our handkerchiefs…"

"No, thanks," Harry said firmly. "I'd rather sit on the floor"

"Good point, Harry," George said. 

Fred scowled. "Et, tu, George-us?" he asked.

George just raised an eyebrow. "Honestly, Fred, _do _you know how to conjure a cushion that doesn't explode, make rude noises or put embarrassing stains on one's posterior?"

Fred rubbed his chin and his scowl faded. "Erm, no, I'd have to look it up."

"Unfortunately, all the books are on the other side of the bookcase," Ron pointed out.

Hermione made a rude noise of her own. "If you would just apply yourself to your studies…"

"Then you'd never catch up to us," Fred interposed quickly. "We would _never _be so rude as to leave you in the dust like that."

Hermione rolled her eyes and started transfiguring handkerchiefs into cushions. "Don't you have a handkerchief, Harry?" she asked.

"I just gave mine to the Bookwyrm," Harry said.

"You can use mine," Hermione said. "I'll stand."

"Maybe we could get out the way Bookwyrm got in?" Ron suggested. 

"Getting anxious to get out of here?" Hermione teased.

"I'm getting hungry," Ron said.

Hermione muttered to herself. "And I'm surprised. I'm definitely losing it."

Without even consulting each other, Fred, George and Harry decided to steer the conversation away from this.

"So, maybe we should try to find the Bookwyrm's exit," George said. "He can't attack, because he lost the riddle contest and I think the five of us can keep him honest."

Fred grinned. "That almost rhymed."

"I'm a poet," George said modestly.

"You're an idiot," Ron grumbled at him.

"So I've been told," George said. "But _I'm _not one of the three who fell behind the bookcase by _accident_!"

Ron responded with a gesture that caused Hermione to whack his hand with her wand. Ron yelped and glared. The other three made a point of searching for the Bookwyrm's exit while Ron and Hermione glared it out.

**** Bookwyrm ****

The Bookwyrm cursed sibilantly as it wended its way towards the statue of Godric Gryffindor. It was Christmas Eve and he'd been cheated out of his dinner. Some holiday this was going to be. He wondered if he could pick up a drunk or two outside the Three Broomsticks. Then he decided against it. With the way his luck was running, he'd run into that damnable Hagrid.

It was bad enough that the vulgar game keeper was twice the size of a normal human; he was completely inedible! On top of that, Hagrid wanted to make a _PET _of him! "A bookwyrm's not quite as good as a dragon, but it's close," the oaf had said when he'd tried to shut him up in a giant terrarium. Not _quite _as good as a dragon! Some oafs have a lot of nerve!

He was still cursing to himself when a low growl ripped the frosty air. The Bookwyrm raised his head and puffed his hood out as he wheeled around to face the source of the sound. It was a Grim. Normally, dragon's kin wouldn't fear a _dog_. However, after the Bookwyrm sized up his bear-sized challenger, he decided to make an exception.

Anxiously, he attempted to sidle past the bear-sized, black dog, but the Grim blocked his path. '_I'm Grim chow_,' thought the BookWyrm. Then it looked into the dog's pale blue eyes. "Wait, a Grim's eyes should be fiery! At the very least, they should be red!" he spoke aloud, in English, to see if he'd get a reaction.

The dog sat back on its haunches and lolled out its tongue, which was red.

The Bookwyrm flicked his tongue out, tasting the air. "You're no dog," he accused. "You're an animagus. On top of that, you're an _illegal _animagus. I know, because I've read the roster of registered animagi many times."

The animagus' grin grew wider. Ersatz dog or not, that thing still had big teeth. The Bookwyrm felt a little braver now, though. Humans had standards. Humans didn't go around eating people. "Show yourself, human," he challenged. "Riddle me this, I soar without wings, I see without eyes. I've traveled the universe to and fro. I've conquered the world, yet I've never been anywhere but home. Who am I?"

The dog disappeared with a small pop, leaving behind a tall, painfully thin man with waist long, tangled hair and a skull-like face.

'So much for humans having standards,' thought the Bookwyrm with scorn.

"You are my imagination," the Animagus said in a rusty voice.

The Bookwyrm was taken aback for a moment, until he realized the human had answered his riddle. Obviously, the Animagus wouldn't need to be introduced to this game.

The Animagus spoke again. "The waters are wild, the walls are of stone, but the strongest bond is despair. Of all the prisoners, I alone, battled my way free from there." He paused, then added. "Who am I?"

'A prison that uses despair as a bond? Obviously Azkaban, and the only prisoner who ever escaped from Azkaban was…' The Bookwyrm swallowed. "Sirius Black."

The Animagus inclined his head slightly. "I am."

The Bookwyrm flinched. '_I was better off with the Grim_!'

å å å 

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews!

Almah: I think your stories are funny! Thanks for the comments about the Bernie Bott's Every Flavor bean! I think I spent as much time coming up with flavors as I did on the plot!

Glad you liked the first two chapters, Unrepentant Reader, hope you like this one and the next two!

Hi, Silver Arrow! Thanks, I worked hard to keep the characters true to canon. I think you do a good job of that yourself, your stories are brilliant! And thanks for the mention in your Author's Notes! 

Hi, Chary! Love your "Beloved on This Earth"! Thanks for the kind words on my story!

Kelly the Maiden-- I'll e-mail you as soon as I have this posted! Thanks for the moral support. (I wasn't planning a second chapter for "A Harry Situation" or "Keeping in Touch", but the plot bunnies lurking under my bed have different ideas.)


	4. The Grim Truth

Harry Potter and the Bookwyrm

Author: Jill D. Weber 

AKA Jelsemium

Characters Owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

They are used without permission or intent to make a profit.

Chapt. 4 -- The Grim Truth

**** Behind the Bookcase ****

"_Revealo_," said George for the fifteenth or sixteenth time. He smacked his wand against the wall and said: "Dammitall! Show yourself, you…" he stopped mid-sentence as his wand went through what looked to be solid stone. After a minute, he added: "Found it." He poked his wand through the illusion to show where.

"_Finite incantatem_," Hermione said, waving her wand.

Suddenly, there was a low tunnel where the wall had been. 

"Okay, now we've found it, what do we do about it?" Ron asked, moving up next to George.

The other four crouched next to him and peered into the small tunnel. There was only enough room for one person at a time in it.

"I'm not sure I can fit," Ron said. He moved back as if somebody was going to try to shove him in.

"Harry and Hermione can fit," Fred said, uncertainly. He looked down the tunnel and shuddered. He didn't even want to try to crawl down there.

"I don't think Harry and Hermione _want _to fit," Harry said. There was something vehemently repellent about the very idea of entering that tunnel.

George looked down the tunnel and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea for us to separate," he said. "We have no idea what could be lurking in there."

The other four looked at him in shock. 

"_Finite incantatem_," Fred muttered, waving his wand under George's nose.

George glared at him and slapped the wand away. "This _is _me, I'm not Snape or somebody using the polyjuice potion!"

"Had to be sure," Fred said, unruffled. "That just sounded so unlike you."

"I think there's a spell affecting him," Hermione said uncertainly. "I think the tunnel is enchanted to keep people out."

The boys looked from Hermione to the tunnel. "So, is it a spell that just makes you _think _you don't want to go in there or is the not wanting to go in there the residual effect of a spell that will do something really nasty and fatal to you?" Ron asked.

"There's only one way to find out," George pointed out. "But it will take a volunteer from the audience."

After a few minutes, it became clear that the collective decision was to _not _find out.

"Well, at least we know how the Bookwyrm got in," Harry sighed as they went back to the bookcase. "It told me that the opening is near the statue of Godric Gryffindor. Once we get out of here, Filch can block off that entrance."

"At least Sirius Black can't use it to get in here, he's human, too," Ron said. 

"But he wasn't supposed to be able to get out of Azkaban," Harry said.

They fell quiet at that thought.

**** With the Bookwyrm ****

Sirius Black stared at the Bookwyrm with those disconcerting pale blue eyes of his. He didn't speak and the Bookwyrm found himself longing for the Boy Who Lived and Chattered a Lot. '_The enemy of my enemy is my friend_,' he thought. Then inspiration struck. Maybe he could set his enemies on each other.

"Tender morsel, scar on face. Trapped behind the snake's bookcase. Through the path no man can walk. The Grim may find his prey and stalk." '_There, that should distract him,_' the Bookwyrm thought smugly.

Black frowned as he thought this over. The Bookwyrm wondered what he'd take as a forfeit if he defeated Black. He'd just about decided that to go with Potter's option (of not getting killed) when Black rasped out his answer. 

"Harry Potter is trapped in the library and the secret passage there can only be used by animals."

"Yes," the Bookwyrm hesitated. Black was still watching him. "Well, go on, you know you'd rather eat him than me."

Black's eyes flickered once, in amusement. The Bookwyrm decided that was a bad sign. "Flies without wings, breathes without lung, takes without hands, sings without tongue."

'_Damn, he's determined to keep up the contest_,' thought the snake. Aloud, he said: "The wind. I really wouldn't object if you wanted to call this contest a draw."

Black merely stared at him.

'_I really should have stayed in bed this morning,_' thought the BookWyrm. He gave a hissing sigh and said: "A man goes out drinking every night, returning to his home in the wee hours of every morning. No matter how much he drinks, he never gets a hangover. This drink is very well known, but is rarely consumed, served warm and taken straight from its source. The man is a sucker for a free drink, especially since he can't live without it. What is his favorite drink?"

Black's face held no expression as he thought this over. "Since he's a vampire, the drink must be blood," he said. The Animagus was silent for many minutes and the Bookwyrm began to hope that he'd go for the stalemate.

Finally, Black spoke. "A woman shoots her husband. Then she holds him under water for over 5 minutes. Finally, she hangs him. But that evening, they go out and enjoy a wonderful dinner together. How can this be?"

The Bookwyrm rolled his eyes. "Please, I am a Bookwyrm. I read a lot of books with photographs in them. I've also read a lot of books about photography. She shot him with a camera and developed the picture. You sure you don't want to call a draw? We're obviously too evenly matched at this."

Black smiled slightly. The Bookwyrm _really _wished that he'd stayed at home.

**** Behind the Bookcase ****

"Snap!" barked Harry, and he gathered up George's pile. Carefully, so as not to explode anything, he placed the pile with his own. That was the last card to be played and it looked as if he'd won this hand. He looked around and sighed. "Anybody remember how many times we've played?" he asked.

"No," Fred said. He looked down and registered some surprise when he realized that the game was over. 

"I don't think anybody is paying attention," said Ron, shivering.

Hermione plucked the tissue paper from the box Fred had stored the cards in and transfigured them into blankets. "We're in big trouble," she said, handing them around.

"Why? Because you're getting farther behind in your homework with every passing second?" Ron asked snidely.

Hermione glared at him. "Just because I'm not lazy and leave things to the last minute…" 

"I'm not lazy," Ron interrupted. "I'm… I'm ergonomically efficient." He was very proud of that term, he'd learned it from Dean Thomas.

"Efficient?" Hermione's voice went up a notch. "Do you call rushing about like a headless chicken at the last minute '_efficient_'? She wondered where Ron had learned 'ergonomically', but wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of asking.

"Yes." Ron waited for Hermione to ask about the term, but George, Fred and Harry interrupted the quarrel with loud sighs. 

"Do they always argue like this, Harry?" Fred asked.

"Oh, no," Harry said, dealing another hand of Snap. "They have an endless variety of ways to argue."

Ron smacked him on the back of his head. "Don't be smart, or Father Christmas will put coal in your stocking."

"That'd be better than anything the Dursleys have given me," Harry said dryly.

"What's taking Dumbledore so long?" Hermione wondered, not wanting to even think about Harry's relatives.

"Maybe he stepped out to do a bit of last minute shopping?" Fred suggested.

Ron laughed. "There, see?" he said to Hermione. "If Dumbledore does things at the last minute, then it must be all right!"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "Just because Dumbledore is inefficient once in a while, doesn't mean it's all right. Besides, that was just Fred's theory. It's not proven. There are lots of other reasons why Dumbledore hasn't let us out yet."

"Like, maybe he can't get us out," Harry stated flatly.

Ron frowned. "You're nutters. Dumbledore's the greatest wizard of our age! There's nothing he can't do… is there?"

Harry sighed. "He couldn't open the Chamber of Secrets," he reminded Ron. 

The Weasleys winced as one, making Harry sorry that he'd brought up that particular memory. It must still give the whole family nightmares to think of how close Ginny came to dying down there.

"That was an entirely different situation," Fred said, once he collected himself.

Ron, Harry and Hermione exchanged looks.

"I hate it when people start giving each other the old 'Do you want to break it to the poor chump or shall I?' look," complained Fred. "Especially when _those _three start it."

"You think the conditions are the same? Why?" George asked the three.

Ron sighed and slumped to the floor. Then he stood up, grabbed a cushion, and sat back on the floor with his back to the bookcase. "Do you think that the door will only open when the Bookwyrm is here?" he asked Harry, while completely ignoring George.

"I think only the reason the door was here at all is because the Bookwyrm was here," Harry said. "I've been in the library lots of times and I've never seen it before."

"We came through after the Bookwyrm had left," George pointed out.

"Maybe we came through just as the Bookwyrm was leaving," Fred contradicted.

"Small sigh," said George. "I hate it when you get all logical."

Hermione frowned. "There's nothing wrong with logic," she said. 

"Fine," George retorted. "Then logic us a way out of here."

Hermione began to pace and pull at her lower lip. "Well, let's start with the premise that the Bookwyrm used magic to create the door. He obviously didn't shut it after himself, because then you two wouldn't have been able to come inside. So leaving the room must be what shuts it off." She paced some more. "No, leaving the castle entirely must be what shuts it off."

"That's not going to get us anywhere," Fred complained.

"Shut up, she's thinking this through logically," Ron said. Ron had a lot of faith in Hermione. He knew that she could think her way out of a dragon's stomach. He also knew he wasn't going to say that aloud any time in the next century.

"I wouldn't think that the Bookwyrm's mere presence would trigger the door into appearing," Harry said.

"Why not?" Fred challenged.

Harry shrugged.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said. "If that's the trigger, there's nothing we can do about it. We have to propose a course of action that we can actually follow." She continued pacing. "So, what do we know about the Bookwyrm?"

"It's a snake," Ron said. "A really _big _snake!"

"Which tells us what?" Hermione pressed.

Ron frowned, but he could tell that she wasn't being sarcastic, so he mulled the question over before answering again. "Well, it doesn't have any hands, so it can't use a wand."

"No, it can manipulate things without hands," Harry said. "It handed me my glasses." He paused. "Erm, so to speak. They fell off and it gave them back to me." Another pause. "But I never saw him use a wand."

"Nonhumans don't generally use wands," George pointed out. "I think there's a law against it, even."

"I'm fairly sure there are laws against killing and eating people, too," Harry said mildly. "I don't expect the Bookwyrm to care worry much about breaking human laws."

"Good thing it follows some sort of law, or we'd be somewhere in its digestive tract," muttered Ron.

"Will you hush? You're not helping!" Hermione was rubbing her forehead as if attempting to massage thoughts into their proper places. "Harry didn't see a wand. It's not likely the Bookwyrm used a wand. So any magic it cast on the bookcase was probably a spoken charm."

"We tried all the spoken charms we know to open things," Fred said.

"But only in English," Hermione said. "What if the Bookwyrm was speaking in Parseltongue?"

"Brilliant!" George said in delight. "Then all Harry has to do is say the spell in Parseltongue and we're out of here!"

"There's one problem," Harry said. "I can't do it."

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, everybody!

Acknowledgements I should have put in earlier: The Hobbit was written by J. R. R. Tolkien and several of the riddles besides _"A box without hinges, key, or lid. Yet golden treasure inside is hid" _were taken from the contest between Bilbo and the Gollum. 

Other riddles in the contest between Harry and the Bookwyrm came from http://www.riddlenut.com and http://members.tripod.com/~riddles/ sphinx.htm. The riddle of the fishermen of Ios is from those worthy fishers. (There are several alternate answers, such as lice. Same idea, though.) The Sphinx's riddle came from the Muses, as does all artistic inspiration. Several riddles in the contest between Sirius and the Bookwyrm came from my own demented mind, and I am quite pleased with them.

nerium oleander: Hm, a crossover with Big Guy and Rusty? I did have an opening for that. Picture this scene -- Rusty is on patrol over New Tronic City when suddenly he spies a UFO, which turns out to be this boy on a flying broomstick. Now, if I could only figure out what Harry's doing up there…

Hi, Chary! Sorry, Harry and Sirius won't get to interact in this story. I hope you like my epilogue, though! Thanks for the kind words on my characterizations! I try to keep them 'true to Rowling.'

Hi, SiriusBPadfoot! Thanks, I wasn't sure how to continue this story, until Mr. Black kindly volunteered to deal with the Bookwyrm. I had a lot of fun writing the Bookwyrm's reactions to Padfoot! Love your way of getting around the fifteen limit on the favorite stories page. I may adopt that idea!

Hi, Ozma! Glad you liked the update. Got another surprise for you coming in the mail grin I tried to imagine how Hagrid would react to the Bookwyrm, and it just seemed logical that Hagrid would try to adopt him.

rose_gal -- Thanks so much! I'm glad you find the characters are 'exactly right!'

wellduh... Yes, Sirius is very bright, isn't he?

Hi, Karin! I'm so glad that you like my story! Your English is very good! I'm glad you like my handling of the characters. 'Wyrm' is an old fashioned term for 'dragon'. Bookwyrm is sort of a play on words. A bookworm is a worm that eats books. A bookwyrm is a dragon that reads books. 

A shrimp is a small sea creature. Calling somebody a 'shrimp' implies that he (or she) is small. (It is not really a polite thing to call somebody, but it can be used affectionately as well as insultingly. Ron called Harry a 'midget' in one of the books so I figured that he might call him a 'shrimp', both terms refer to a small person.)

If I were able to read German, it would take me a long time to figure out a play on words. I am glad that my story is worth thinking about for so long! 

I plan to keep on writing. I have always loved to make up stories and I am so happy that other people like to read them!


	5. And To All A Good Night!

Harry Potter and the Bookwyrm

Author: Jill D. Weber 

AKA Jelsemium

Characters Owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.

They are used without permission or intent to make a profit.

Chapt. 5 -- And to All a Good Night!

*** With the Bookwyrm ***

"Your turn," Black said politely.

The Bookwyrm flicked his tongue a few times. "Horse never summoned, she comes unbidden. Cannot be tamed, harnessed or ridden."

After a few moments, the corner of Black's mouth curled slightly. "That would be my old cellmate, Nightmare," he said softly. He studied the Bookwyrm for a few minutes before speaking. "Flies without wings, takes without hands, has no power on Earth, but destroys many lands."

The Bookwyrm sniffed haughtily. "That would be time," he replied without even a token pause to think. He'd heard many variations on that one over the years. He stuck his tongue out at Black.

Black smiled slightly.

The Bookwyrm hurried on to his next riddle. "Destroys wood fast, destroys iron slow. Without it, your life would swiftly go."

Black's smile took on a cruel edge and he answered almost as swiftly as the Bookwyrm had. "That would be the oxidation process. It destroys wood fast by burning. It destroys iron slowly by rust. And without oxygen in my lungs, I would soon be dust." He grinned.

The Bookwyrm did not like the looks of that grin. It reminded him of himself, just before he threw out the winning riddle.

"A man and his son are in an accident," Black said, speaking softly and with considerable malicious pleasure. "The man is killed instantly, the son is rushed to the hospital. The doctor takes one look and says: "I cannot treat this child. I'm too emotionally involved, for he is my son." The Animagus eyed the Bookwyrm narrowly. "How is that possible?"

The Bookwyrm stared. "I take it this is not a case of mistaken identity?" he asked, going against the usual rules of the riddle game. 

The Animagus just shook his head. "No. The doctor wasn't mistaken or lying."

The Bookwyrm searched his mind for everything he knew about human relationships. "Then, the man who was killed wasn't the boy's father. He was one of those human spiritual advisors that are called 'Father' and the boy was only his son in the spiritual sense."

Black shook his head. "The doctor was the boy's mother," he replied. "You lose."

*** Behind the Bookcase ***

"What do you mean you can't do it!" cried Fred. "You can speak Parseltongue, can't you? I mean, that whole scandal last year revolved around it!"

"I can speak Parseltongue, but not on demand," Harry said. "I can't tell the difference between it and English. I need to see a snake if I want to speak Parseltongue!"

The other four exchanged looks, then George began to laugh. "Well, if _that's _the only problem, I know just how to fix that!"

Fred looked alarmed, which didn't make the younger three students feel any better. 

"I know the old 'turn my wand into a snake trick'," George continued boastfully. 

"But that trick never works!" complained Fred.

"Not to worry," George said. "I never let a little detail like reality stop me!" He pulled his wand and waved his fingers over it. "Nothing up my sleeve! _Moses Serpentinus Presto_!"

The wand fairly leapt out of George's hand, landed on the floor and turned into a large, wriggling snake.

Hermione jumped back with a small shriek. Ron swore and raised his wand. Harry stepped back with a small hiss of surprise.

"Ron! Language!" scolded Hermione.

"Was that Parseltongue?" Ron asked Harry with hope in his voice.

"Erm, I guess so," Harry said. He looked at his two best friends. "Must have been," he amended. "Otherwise Hermione would be scolding me for using bad language, too."

"It works!" George said in poorly disguised surprise.

"I'd say you're brilliant, except that I got all the brains," Fred commented.

"Guess I just got stuck with the devilishly good looks," George said with mock resignation.

Hermione decided to ignore them. "Try '_alohamora_,' Harry," she urged.

'How do you say 'alohamora' in snake?' Harry wondered. He tried, but he kept getting a regular human '_alohamora_'.

Finally, George got impatient and grabbed up the snake and stuck it in Harry's face.

Harry leaped back, hissing.

Everybody looked at the bookcase, but nothing happened.

"Maybe it's not the right spell," Ron said. 

"Well if you have a better idea for a spell, then I'm all ears," Harry replied.

"Maybe it's not a spell at all," Ron said slowly. "The Bookwyrm seemed balmy about riddles, maybe what we want is a riddle?"

"A riddle about what?" Hermione wondered. She finally stopped pacing and stood there pulling on her lip. "Try the old: 'When is a door not a door?' riddle."

"When is a door not a door?" Harry said, in English.

George stuck the snake in his face again.

Harry looked at it and tried to make himself believe that he was facing the Bookwyrm again. He let out a nasty hiss.

The bookcase didn't move.

"Try it with the answer," Hermione suggested. "When it's ajar."

Harry rolled his eyes at her. "I'm familiar with the riddle, thank you, Miss Granger."

Hermione heaved a very deep sigh.

Harry tried it once more. "When is a door not a door? When it is ajar." He could hear himself hissing and wondered if the joke was as bad in Parseltongue as it was in English.

"Ah, that's done it," said Professor Dumbledore's blessedly familiar voice. "Is everyone all right in there?"

The bookcase swung open to reveal Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, along with Filch and Madam Pince.

Five sighs of relief.

"We're fine," Harry said, gesturing for the others to proceed him. If the door shut when the Parselmouth left, Harry wanted to be the last to leave.

As soon as he was safely in the library, the bookcase shut behind them. Harry looked back, but there was no sign of the door. 

"I think some explanations are in order," Professor McGonagall said. She was trying to sound stern, but she looked rather too shaken to pull it off properly.

Harry took a deep breath and began. 

*** The Bookwyrm's Forfeit ***

"You lose," Black repeated. "And now I want my forfeit."

"NOOOOOOO!" wailed the Bookwyrm. "I can't get Potter for you! He won! I can't touch him, if I do, then I'll violate my terms of sorcery and… and…"

"You'll die?" Black offered. "Or turn into a regular snake?"

"I'll become illiterate!" sobbed the Bookwyrm as he pounded his head on the ground. "All those lovely books…" 

Black eyed him in astonishment. Then something close to a genuine smile crossed his face. "Very well, then," he said. "I won't force that on you, but now you owe me another forfeit!"

"Two?" asked the Bookwyrm as he calmed down. "But…"

"It's two for me or get caught in conflicting geasa," Black said calmly.

The Bookwyrm snorted. "Very well, then, what do you want?"

"First, no more eating people, that's disgusting," Black said.

"What? That's no fair, I…"

"I could demand that you bring Potter to me," Black pointed out. "Your choice, meat or books?"

The Bookwyrm moaned deep in its throat. "Books, of course, but you need to define people."

"Any being with the capacity to think or speak or read," Black said. "And don't think I won't know if you cheat."

"Bugger," sighed the Bookwyrm. "You won't have to know. The Terms of Sorcery will know and that is more terrifying than even you. What's the second one, then?"

"There's another unregistered Animagus around here," Black said. "A rat. I want you to bring him to me alive."

"I may not be able to stay around here very long," the Bookwyrm pointed out. "Unless you mean for me to have to tackle the likes of Dumbledore in a bad mood."

"Very well, if you see the Animagus on your way out, capture him and bring him to the Shrieking Shack."

The Bookwyrm gave Black a very, very dirty look, which phased the Animagus not at all. He sighed and started to slither off.

"Oh, one more thing," Black said.

"WHAT!" demanded the Bookwyrm.

"_Happy Christmas_."

The Bookwyrm thought of many, many responses to that, and kept them all to himself.

*** In the Library ***

After the explanations (with embellishments) were finished, and a few stray riddles were thrown out and solved, Dumbledore said: "Excellent work on all your parts, ten points to Gryffindor, apiece."

"What?" Filch demanded angrily. "No detention?"

"Really, Argus, do you think that's appropriate on Christmas Eve?"

Filch held up some manacles and shook them. "What could be more appropriate to Christmas than hanging some decorations on the wall?" he asked, grinning hopefully

Dumbledore just raised an eyebrow. Filch sighed. "Come along, then," Dumbledore said. "I think we could all use a mug of hot chocolate after this."

They headed out of the library, with Filch muttering. "Bah, humbug."

*** Behind the Bookcase ***

The large, black dog padded into the room. There was nobody there, but the scent of the students lingered in the abandoned cushions and blankets. The dog sniffed around, then made a nest, keeping the blankets and cushion that smelled of Harry Potter close to his face. Then he settled down with a sigh, went to sleep and dreamed of Christmas the way it _should _have been.

W W W 

Author's End Notes:

__

Ozma: Thanks! Glad you liked the riddles! Sirius is pretty smart, and he really had nothing to do for his twelve years at Azkaban except think, so I imagine he probably played a lot of word games.

__

Sila-chan: Thank you! Here is the last chapter of this story. More stories to come!

__

Sparks: Thanks! I'm writing! Honest! Glad you like my stories!

__

Kaydee: Thanks, thanks, thanks! I'm glad you think my writing is clever! I do try to tie things together. (That's one thing of many things I like about Rowling's books, how she ties things together like that.) Hope you like the conclusion!

__

Chary: Thank you so much! I'm glad you think I have the characterizations down. And I'm glad you liked the riddles. The favorite stories thingy is easy. You get the storyid from the header of the story you like. Log in, then go to the favorite story section and paste it into the favorite story id box. You get the author's ID from the author's page so you can paste that into the favorite author's story, too.

Speaking of favorite stories: Chapter 21? Soon? Hint!

SiriusBPadfoot: Thanks for dropping by and reviewing! No, as you see, Harry and Sirius don't meet in this story. Got more story ideas where we'll get some interaction between them. (A Harry Situation will restart soon, I hope.) I was rather stuck on what to do with the Bookwyrm until I realized that Sirius Black was a scary figure, too. Wish I was clever enough to come up with a riddle like the photograph one. I have a list of what I created below.

Karin: Thank you so much for the compliments! I am so glad you like the story! Wow! Translate my story into German? I am very pleased and flattered. Yes, you have my permission. May I put the translation up under my name? Or do you prefer to put it up under yours? Either way is fine with me.

Kaylin: Thank you so much for the applause! Thank you for telling me what lines you liked. Yes, you are right. As far as I know, Harry can only speak Parseltongue when there is a snake present. Or at least something he can pretend is a snake. 

__

The Riddles I created: 

Chapter 2: Harry's riddle about his scar.

Chapter 3:

The riddle that Sirius used to introduce himself.

Chapter 4:

The riddle the Bookwyrm made up about Harry being trapped behind the bookcase.

"Flies without wings"

Chapter 5:

"Horse never summoned,"

"Flies without wings"

"Destroys wood fast,"

I learned the "A man and his son are in an accident" riddle way back when I was in high school. It had us stumped, and I used that to stump a lot of my co-workers when I was stocking shelves. It's not so hard nowadays. A sign, I think, of how the world has improved in the past twenty years.


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue: Christmas the Way it Should Be…  
By Jill Weber  
All recognizable characters copyrighted J.K. Rowling and used without permission or intent to make a profit. The familiar dialog is quoted from J. K. Rowling. Other familiar dialog quoted from J. R. R.Tolkien.  
  
Author's Note: Hey, Chary, here it is! Where's the next chapter of "Beloved on this Earth?"  


  
***  
  
The dog snuffled and twitched in his sleep, and dreamed of Christmas the way it should be…  
  
Slowly he moved, inch by inch. This delivery was going to take all the skills he'd acquired in planting dungbombs in the Slytherin Common Room. Sirius Black took a deep breath, Lily Evans Potter was a hundred times more dangerous than any Slytherin.  
  
Instead of pounding on the backdoor or howling under the bedroom window, as was his wont, Sirius gently placed his wand on the handle of the backdoor and whispered: "_Pedo Mellon a Minno._"   
  
Lily had charmed the door so that a mere 'Alohamora' would set off a dozen different hexes. She'd said that this phrase was a classic, although she never said where it was from and Sirius had never puzzled out it's meaning.   
  
Sirius said it, nonetheless, The consequences for _not _saying it were too severe. He winced in remembrance of how long it had taken to rebone his legs, thanks to her industrial strength jelly legs curse. His hearing had come back before he'd been able to walk again.  
  
James, of course, had only laughed at Sirius' complaints. "It's not like you haven't pulled nasty pranks, Sirius," he said. "In fact, you probably have a patent or two on some."  
  
The door opened, and Sirius slithered in, grinning like a marauder. He was going to get back at both of them, today. The long package in his hand rustled slightly as he shifted his grip.   
  
"Who's there? Sirius?" James asked in a low voice from the other room.  
  
"Happy, Christmas, you stupid git," Sirius said in equally low tones. He nosed his way into the living room and grinned when he saw the tousled haired James holding his equally tousled hair son.  
  
"And Happy Christmas to you, Harry," he said, messing up the boy's hair even more. He held up the long, slim package and waved it under James' nose.   
  
Harry made a grab for the moving target, making both men chuckle. "Hey, he's already got Quidditch reflexes," James boasted in a low voice. "He'll be the greatest Seeker ever!"  
  
Sirius laughed aloud.  
  
James shushed him frantically, but it was too late.  
  
"James? Is that Sirius I hear?" Lily asked sleepily from upstairs.  
  
"No, it's your imagination, go back to sleep," Sirius said in a decent imitation of James' voice.  
  
Lily snorted. "Sirius, if you're going to imitate James, you have to use the proper phrasing," she scolded. She came downstairs yawning and tying her dressing gown.  
  
"If I said, 'It's your imagination, Lily-my-Sweet,' James would hex me," Sirius said in wounded tones.  
  
Harry let out a wail.  
  
"Oops, sorry, didn't mean to upset the tyke," Sirius said.  
  
"You didn't. Here's your son, Lily-my-Sweet," James said, hastily stuffing Harry into Lily's arms.  
  
"Translation, he's wet," Lily said dryly to Sirius. She cuddled Harry for a few minutes and he settled down. His diaper was still dry, which confused Lily. Why had James been so insistent on giving him to her? Unless… James was trying to distract her. That's when her eyes fell on the package in Sirius' hands.   
  
Eyes flashing emerald fire, she whirled on her husband. "_James Tiberius Potter_! How _dare _you! How dare you buy my baby a Quidditch broom before he's old enough to walk! I won't have it!"  
  
"Now, Lily," James said soothingly.  
  
"Don't 'Now, Lily,' ME!" snarled Lily.  
  
Sirius made the mistake of laughing just then.  
  
Lily's glare transferred to him and he made an unsuccessful attempt to turn the laugh into a cough.  
  
"I can give you something for that 'cough', Sirius…" Lily trailed off as she tried to remember what Sirius' middle name was.   
  
Sirius laughed harder. "Sorry, Lily Elizabeth Evans Potter, but I have no middle name," chortled Sirius.  
  
"MISTER Black," Lily said ominously. "If you think you're going to get this child on a broom before he's five years old… that's five YEARS, not five MONTHS… you are sadly mistaken. And if you don't behave yourself, then I'll be the one to MAKE you sad!"  
  
Her glare slid back to her husband. "I have three words for you, MISTER Potter…" She counted them off on her left hand while she cradled Harry with the right. 'Sleeping.On.Couch.'"  
  
"You wouldn't do that to _me_, would you, Lily-my-Sweet?" James asked, turning the charm on high. He moved closer to his wife. "It's been an awfully cold winter, so far. I wouldn't want you to get… chilled." He licked his lips and moved even closer. He pulled his wand from the pocket of his dressing gown. A flick of his wrist and a cobweb clinging to the ceiling became mistletoe.  
  
Lily giggled and handed Harry to Sirius. "Be a good little godfather and see if Harry needs changing," she ordered, not taking her eyes off of James.  
  
Sirius cuddled his godson and turned away to give his best friends a little privacy…

  
***  
  
Harry wasn't in his arms.   
  
Frantically, Sirius turned around and saw he wasn't in the Potter's home anymore, he was in Gryffindor Tower. He could tell by the four-poster beds hung with deep red curtains. Judging by the clutter, it was one of the boys' dormitories. That meant… ah… there he was. Thirteen year old Harry was unwrapping presents.  
  
Curiously, Sirius moved closer to get a better look at his godson's presents. He didn't walk over, he floated over. He didn't question this at all, one seldom questions the rhyme and reason… or lack of… in a dream.  
  
"_A _jumper?" Sirius muttered. "_Well, yes, useful, I suppose, and nice enough with the Gryffindor lion on the front, but really not at all thrilling. How much trouble can you cause with a _jumper?" He licked his lips over the meat pies and Christmas cake. He couldn't remember his last decent meal.  
  
Then _IT _rolled out from under the wrapping paper and food was forgotten. Sirius grinned in anticipation.  
  
"What's that?" a boy with flaming red, almost orange, hair asked. Really, who'd ever send the poor boy maroon socks?  
  
"Dunno," Harry replied as he ripped the wrapping paper off.   
  
Harry's reaction was everything a doting godparent could ask for. He gasped and his eyes went as wide as the base of the astronomy tower.  
  
The redhead scrambled to get a better look, too. "I don't believe it," he said hoarsely.  
  
Harry picked the Firebolt up, awe written into every line of his face. It was an expression that Sirius had been waiting to produce since Lily brought a boy into the world.  
  
"Who sent it to you?" the redhead asked in appropriately reverent tones.  
  
"Look and see if there's a card," Harry replied.  
  
Sirius laughed to himself as the boys tore the wrapping paper apart, searching for a card which did not exist.  
  
"Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?"  
  
Sirius frowned. Petunia's family would spend that much, wouldn't they… oh, wait, they were Muggles. They wouldn't find it easy to buy a Quidditch broom. He supposed that's why Harry discounted them right away.  
  
"I bet it was Dumbledore," said the redhead as he studied the broom. "He sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously."  
  
Ah-HA! That's what happened to James' cloak!  
  
"It was my Dad's though," Harry pointed out. "Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn't spend hundreds of galleons on me."  
  
_'Want to bet?' _Sirius asked.  
  
Harry, obviously, couldn't hear him. "He can't go giving students stuff like this --"  
  
"That's why he couldn't say it was from him!" The redhead chortled. "In case some git like Malfoy said it was favouritism."  
  
So, Lucius Malfoy managed to reproduce. What a pity. Should have slipped him some _acastrati_ potion when he'd had the chance. The world did not need more Malfoys.  
  
"Hey, Harry, Malfoy! Wait 'til he sees you on this! He'll be as sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom, this is!" the redhead fell on his bed, laughing like a hyena.  
  
'_Damn straight_,' Sirius thought. '_Nothing but the best for my godson_!' He was grinning from ear to ear. It felt good. It had been a _long _time since anything felt this good.  
  
"I can't believe this," Harry's voice was full of wonder. "Who?"  
  
"I know!" the redhead calmed down enough to speak. "I know who it could've been… Lupin!"  
  
Lupin? _Remus _Lupin? Remus Lupin was at Hogwarts??  
  
Now Harry started laughing. "What? Lupin? Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes."  
  
Definitely Remus Lupin. Wow! Moony got himself a job at Hogwarts! Looking after James and Lily's boy, no doubt! This was getting better all the time. Sirius glided over to the portrait hole intending to try to find his old friend.

  
***  
  
The front door swung open and Sirius blinked. A door, not the backside of the Fat Lady's portrait. Obviously, he was no longer in Gryffindor Tower. Why, this looked like James' and Lily's old home… not at Godric's Hollow, the one they had died in. The one they'd lived in back when they were an ordinary family, before they'd been forced into hiding. The home Harry should have been brought up in.  
  
"Well, don't just stand there, Padfoot, go _in_!" Remus demanded, pushing him from behind.  
  
Sirius whirled around to face three grinning men. One he did not know, although his thinning, fiery hair made Sirius suspect that he was the father of the boy in Harry's dorm. Albus Dumbledore he knew well. A stab of grief shot through him when he thought of what the wiser man must think of him… but Dumbledore was smiling at him, blue eyes full of light and completely devoid of any reproach or suspicion.  
  
Remus Lupin was looking haggard, the full moon was less than a week in the past, Sirius somehow knew. However, to the fugitive asleep behind the bookcases in Hogwarts' library, the werewolf had never looked so good.  
  
"Remus!" Sirius shouted, throwing his arms around his friend in a big bear hug.  
  
"Sirius! Those are my _ribs_ you're cracking!"  
  
"I'll buy you a new set," Sirius promised unrepentantly.  
  
"You stupid git," Remus laughed, somewhat breathlessly. He shoved his way free of Sirius' embrace. "You act as if you hadn't seen us in years, instead of spending a week in court with us."  
  
"Not to mention a rather too interesting ride on the Knight Bus to get here," the red-haired man said mildly.  
  
"Sometimes good news takes a while to sink in," Dumbledore said happily. "Go on, Sirius, somebody's been waiting a long time for this." He waved one hand at the door.  
  
Sirius turned and changed and bounded through the entry into a crowded sitting room.  
  
The bulk of the crowd consisted of two people. Hagrid, he knew. Hagrid's lady friend (_Hagrid's got a girlfriend! Hagrid's got a girlfriend!_) was unfamiliar to the sleeping Sirius, but the dream Sirius insisted they were comrades in arms.   
  
The majority of people in the crowd were redheads, obviously a family. The boy from the dormitory , older and taller now, was leaning against the mantle and directing a floating chunk of mistletoe to stalk a bushy haired young woman who was standing next to a wing chair  
  
Another young woman, this one with the ubiquitous fiery red hair, waved at him. "It's about time, you got here, Sirius!" she laughed. "We thought we'd have to put a full body-binding on this git to keep him from walking on that leg!" She patted the git in question on the shoulder.  
  
Padfoot surged forward. He knocked over a pair of crutches in his haste to reach his godson's side.  
  
"Whoa!" Harry cried as Padfoot leaped on him, licking his face and wagging his tail furiously.  
  
"Sirius! You'll hurt his leg again!" the bushy haired woman scolded. She stalked forward, oblivious to the mistletoe hanging over her head.  
  
Sirius transformed. "Sorry, Harry," he said, grinning like a madman.  
  
"No, you're not," Harry snorted, shoving Sirius off his lap. He shifted his bandaged left leg. "Have a seat, that should spare me any more public displays of affection." He tried to sound stern, but was grinning too broadly himself to pull it off. "Besides, I have a present for you."  
  
"Only one?" Sirius laughed. He looked into the next room. At first glance, the Christmas tree looked tall enough to brush the high vaulted ceiling of the dining room. A second look, however, showed that it was a normal sized tree that was floating above a minor mountain of wrapped packages.  
  
"Those are for tomorrow!" Harry was having a hard time scolding with that grin plastered across his face. "_This _is for your first official day of freedom." He twisted in his chair, saw that the bushy haired woman was occupied in kissing the redhead, then turned to the red-haired girl.  
  
She was a step ahead of him. She held out a long, slender package wrapped in brightly colored paper.  
  
Sirius grinned. "You can't be serious," he said.  
  
"No, you are," Harry dragged that old joke out with as much pride as if he'd just come up with it. "It's actually two presents in one," he added, pushing his unruly hair out of his eyes.  
  
Sirius raised an eyebrow and studied the wrapped broom for a few minutes.  
  
"Look at the name tag," advised the bushy haired woman, once she'd broken free of her lover.  
  
"It's the long-needed middle name, so you can be scolded properly," Remus added from behind him.  
  
Sirius read the tag aloud. "To: Sirius _'Freeman'_ Black…" His eyes went wide and he…

  
***  
  
Woke up. He was back in the hidden room behind the library bookcase. The fugitive sighed. "If only it was true," he murmured.  
  
"What makes you so certain that it is not?" a gentle voice asked.  
  
Sirius leaped to his feet and whirled to face the speaker. "Headmaster…" he trailed off uncertainly. The man facing him did have white hair and a white beard, but neatly trimmed. Not at all like the Headmaster's extravagant locks. He held a staff in one hand, and a basket of something that smelled of turkey and trimmings and treacle tart.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
The man smiled. "I have many names," he said. "As many names as Nations who recognize me."  
  
Sirius frowned. "You said that dream was…" he hesitated, then rephrased his question. "The dream could be true?" he asked.  
  
"_You_ know the truth of the Dream of Christmas Past as well as I," the man said. "And I assure you that the Dream of Christmas Present is happening as we speak."  
  
"Then, the Dream of Christmas Yet-To-Be… could happen?" Sirius asked.  
  
"Could become true. Your actions will determine what your future will be, my Padfoot," the man said.   
  
"How? What must I do?"  
  
"I cannot tell you that," the man replied. "Your heart is a more certain guide in these uncertain times. My only advice to you is to listen to advice when it comes from the heart of one who loves you."  
  
"Wait…"

  
***  
  
Sirius woke up, alone in the room behind the library bookshelves. He sighed. "Wistful dream or a true vision?" he wondered. Did monsters like himself get treated to true visions on Christmas Eve? Was there really… food?  
  
He looked around. There was a basket sitting within arms' reach. A basket that smelled of turkey and trimmings and treacle tart. For the first time in twelve years, Sirius Black felt hope. "Happy Christmas," he murmured.   


  
###  


  
Author's Notes:  
Happy Christmas and a Prosperous New Year to one and all! I had intended to post this on Christmas Eve, only FanFiction.Net decided to cut off all ties to AOL. They're still having problems with AOL, off and on. I'll try to post this during an 'on' period.

Yes, you clever people, the password in the first segment is from Lord of the Rings. (Imagine Lily's surprise when she found out how historically accurate Tolkien was.)   


  
coolchick207: I love riddles, too. The riddling scene in the Hobbit has always been one of my favorites. I like any kind of contest that takes brains to win and Riddles have a long tradition behind them.  
  
Mariner: Thanks! I'm glad you find my story charming! I had fun with the Bookwyrm's reaction to Sirius. I figured that anybody who read as much as the Bookwyrm did would have been given the impression that Sirius Black is a very powerful and ruthless dark wizard.   
  
Chary: WoW! I'm one of your favorite authors? Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! Glad you liked the riddles! The father and son riddle is one of my favorites. I stump a lot of people with that one! I'm glad the interaction between the children feels right to you. ** I think you would find a lot of people are waiting anxiously to see the end of your story (self included).   
  
Karin: How's the translating going? I think I answered this in an e-mail, but plain text would be a good format. Hope you like the epilogue, too!  
  
Kaydee: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the story. Oh, the Bookwyrm can eat lots of things as long as they aren't intelligent -- ham, beef, veal, venison, pork, politicians -- well, maybe not politicians, they'd give him a tummy ache. I hope you like my other stories. I try to be as clever as Rowling.  
  
Ozma: Thanks! I'm glad you liked the ending. Did it occur to you that Filch had come prepared to fight? ** Yeah, a choice between food and books would be tough. Fortunately, the Bookwyrm only had to choose between not eating his favorite foods as opposed to not eating at all. And, yes, I wrote the "But that trick never works!" in June Foray's voice!  
  
zoomphy: Thanks! I tried to keep it close to canon. Glad you liked the riddles, too!  
  
Kattis: Sorry, this story is written to fit canon, so Harry has to stay with the Dursleys. My next story, A Harry Situation, is AU, though.  
  
Spark-Chick: Thanks! Have you read my collaboration, Squib Summer, with Ozma?   
  
KK: *Blushes* Thanks!  
  
auroraziazan: You're welcome! Thanks for reading and reviewing!  
  
Sky Chief: Thanks for the compliments! I'm glad you liked the story. Hope you like my other ones!  
  
Pseudonym Sylphmuse: Thanks for the review and thanks for adding me to your favorites! Can't wait to see what the Twins favorite fruits are. Or do they both like the same one? (I'm expecting one to like bananas, just for the fun he can have with the peels.)  
  
Andrea13: Thanks for coming by! Glad you liked the story, too. I hope Sirius gets a happy ending from J.K. If not, then I'll write him one.  
  
Alla: Yes, poor Harry is just too darn edible looking for his own good. ** Thank you for the compliment on my one liners! I work hard on those. ** Yes, the Bookwyrm isn't the total monster like the Grey Stalker. I may have to do another story with him. ** Yes, I imagine that one reason that Sirius is good at riddles is that he had to play mind games to keep his sanity. He also tried hard to remember anything that wouldn't evoke a happy memory that would attract the Dementors, and riddles are mostly neutral. ** Thanks for the compliments on my characterization. That's something else I work hard at. ** I hope Sirius gets to spend Christmas with Harry in Book Five. That would be so cool! Thanks for the reviews!  



End file.
